Tag Archives: hockey

NFred’s Delicious Little Secret -UPDATE!

I must be very in tune with the universe because  you’ll never guess who showed up at The Toy Shop on the same day that I wrote  this:

https://nfrederick78.wordpress.com/2016/10/11/nfreds-delicious-little-secret/

So there I was, minding my own business, innocently going about my evening. My coworker was on her dinner break and I was finishing up some paperwork behind the cash. I heard some chatter at the front of the store and as I looked over to say hello, I realized that…

IT WAS HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Holy crap! It was like my writing had conjured Her over to the The Toy Shop!

I momentarily contemplated running into the back room and forcing my coworker to deal with Her, but then decided to pull up my boot straps and handle it like the capable retail professional that I am.

In a booming voice, I called over “HELLO”. She nodded and then walked towards me with her child.

“Do you have those special tattoo pens?”, she asked while looking directly at my face.

“Yes, we do. Follow me”, I replied while looking directly at Her face.

I walked Her over to the section of the store where she could find what she was looking for and then I booked it back to the cash area.

It was obvious that she still didn’t recognize me.

STILL.

As I was contemplating my forgettable status behind the safety of the cash area, she approached me, ready to pay. Because I’m super smooth in awkward situations, I asked her child if he was going to tattoo the word “mom” on his arm with his new pens. Well did that ever make Her laugh. Like a real, snort inducing chuckle.

AND THEN IT HAPPENED…

“Hey, I know you! From hockey!” she said with a smile.

FROM. HOCKEY.

“NO, YOU KNOW ME FROM BEING AN ASSHAT ABOUT FREE GIFT WRAPPING” is what I wanted to say, but all that came out was “yes”.

“I thought you looked familiar. Have you worked here long?’, she asked innocently.

“LONG ENOUGH TO REMEMBER THAT YOU’RE AN ASSHAT”, I thought but again replied with “yes”.

“Well I guess we’ll see you next weekend then. Nice seeing you again”, she said with a smile as she exited The Toy Shop.

NICE SEEING ME AGAIN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

If only she knew how NOT nice it was for ME seeing HER again.

I couldn’t help but think about Her for the rest of my shift. What kind of a person explodes on someone and then acts like it never happened? Maybe she regularly loses her shit on underpaid customer service employees making it next to impossible to keep us all straight in her asshat mind?

I have far too many questions that I fear will never get answered.

Who the crap is this woman?

What is Her deal?!?!?!?

I JUST DON’T KNOW.

Life really is full of surprises…and unpredictable plot twists…

Stay tuned!

NFred.

 

 

 

 

 

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NFred’s Delicious Little Secret.

I couldn’t quite place her, but I knew that she looked familiar.

It was at my son’s hockey evaluations a few weeks ago. She was registering the kids as they arrived at the arena.

“What’s your name, Honey”, she asked my son. He answered and she sweetly told him which dressing room to use and wished him good luck.

As I sat shivering  in the stands, watching my son play, it suddenly came to me.

IT WAS HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

A few years ago while working at The Toy Shop, I had a customer who was very upset with the quality of our free gift wrapping service. I remember that she bought an item and asked to have it wrapped. As I was removing the price tags, she went off on an unprovoked rant about how poorly wrapped her previous purchase had been and that she had to redo the whole thing HERSELF in her car because she was too embarrassed to give such a horrible looking gift. I apologised and took extra care to fluff the tissue and curl the ribbon to perfection. When I asked her if it looked okay, she rolled her eyes, snatched the bag from my hands and said, “I’ll do it myself” before storming out of the store.

It was one of the most perplexing customer interactions I’ve ever had in my entire retail career. How could someone be so upset about a totally optional and completey FREE service?

I sat there in the stands, my butt frozen and fingers numb and I smiled. As if this was the same woman who just called my son “Honey”! What I delicious little secret I had.

And the best part?

I’ve seen her on a weekly basis at the rink ever since.

 

Needless to say, I’ve been a little guarded in my interactions with her. I’m cautiously waiting for her inner asshat to escape.

In all fairness, I don’t know this woman. She could lead a very difficult life. But there’s just something about people who aren’t cordial to those in customer service jobs. Your server, cashier, the person that pumps your gas are all paid to help you in one way or another. However, being outlets for your misplaced anger is NOT part of their job description.

Anyhoo, it’s going to be an interesting hockey season to say the least! Last week I made sure to wear my staff shirt to see if she’d say anything, but no dice.

Who knows, maybe we’ll become friends and one day we’ll laugh about her inner asshat?!?!!? It’s not likely, but you never know….life is full of surprises…

Thanks for reading,

NFred.

 

 

 

 

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Paragraph # 28: Tired.

tired

 

OH MY GOD!

I’M SO TIRED.

I have no reason to be this bone crushingly exhausted, but here I am, sitting on my couch in my jam jams, struggling to keep my eyes open.

My day at work was pretty uneventful, so I really don’t have any excuse for wanting to go to bed at eight thirty on a Saturday night.

The only exciting part of work today occurred when an older gentleman told me that I should inform all my customers to buy the squirrel socks we sell because his daughter wore them for her government French exam and she passed. I smiled and said “awesome” and then he went on a giant tangent about how hard it is to get a job in the government. I did my best to look busy in an attempt to get away from the conversation, but he wouldn’t stop talking at me. After rambling on for a solid five minutes he told me AGAIN how I should tell all my customers about the magical squirrel socks and then he said “thanks, Buddy” and left.

Buddy? People are so weird.

Tomorrow I have a ridiculous day “off”. A bowling tournament, two hockey games, skating lessons and our crazy annual toy store staff party extravaganza.

I’m going to need a clone, a caffeine drip and a solid eighteen hours of sleep tonight if I plan on surviving tomorrow’s madness.

What’s that I hear? It’s my sweet, sweet couch calling!

Good night and thanks for reading.

See you tomorrow,

NFred.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Paragraph # 22: Get Your Shit Together, Hockey Mom!

hockey mom

 

Dear Hockey Mom,

PLEASE get your shit together.

No, it’s not the coach’s job to tell your son that the six-thirty in the morning practices are cancelled because you think it’s too early. You ask him EVERY time to lie to your son in a voice so loud that EVERYONE in the dressing room hears you. It’s obnoxious and you come off as a total asshat.

Why did you even sign your kid up for hockey? You knew what you were getting yourself into. I know this because you talk about your other sons ALL THE TIME to anyone within earshot.

I’ve heard it countless times. They play competitive hockey and they’re super talented and they poop solid gold. Your life is busy. You work full time, you go to school, you have three kids. You love the sound of your own voice more than I love drinking beer. And everything that comes out of your mouth is negative. You should really think about buying the rights to the phrase “it’s not fair”.

I hate when you sit near me at hockey. Listening to the way you talk about your youngest son makes me sick. You constantly put him down. Maybe you think it’s funny but I think it’s disgusting.

You give all the supportive, nurturing, sane hockey moms out there a bad name.

It’s getting increasingly more difficult to keep my lips zipped when you’re running your mouth. I go to hockey to watch my kid and cheer on his team, not to listen to your crap. I feel like you’re taking  some of the fun away from the parents who actually WANT to be in an arena at six-thirty in the morning, watching their kids do what they love.

So PLEASE, I urge you, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

Yours truly,

NFred.

 

 

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Paragraph #21: Stupid Fucking Diabetes.

diabetes

 

Today I had to tell my eight year old son that he couldn’t be the goalie.

It broke his little heart.

He started hockey in September and has been chomping at the bit to have his shot in the net.

This morning, he finally got his chance.

And he fell in love.

He got off the ice full of joy, flushed cheeks, beaming smile.

He asked if he could be the goalie in tomorrow’s game and I had to say no.

Not because he wasn’t good enough, but because of his stupid fucking diabetes.

Are we being overly protective? Probably. Will he get to be the goalie later in life when he’s got a better handle on his disease? I’m hopeful. But when I explained this to him, it fell on deaf ears.

He just wants to be the goalie NOW.

We’re new to the diabetes game. My son was diagnosed on November twenty-fourth. It’s been an intense two months of ups and downs and math.

SO MUCH STUPID FUCKING MATH.

During any kind of activity, including hockey, we have to monitor my son closely to make sure that his blood sugar levels don’t drop too low. That means, we have to haul him off the ice halfway through every game and practice to test his blood. Obviously, the goalie can’t leave the net unattended for five minutes during a game while he manages his glucose levels.

And that really fucking sucks.

Yes, I try to stay positive. I look at my boy who is feeling so much better since his diagnosis and I’m beyond grateful.

But sometimes I can’t help but be angry.

Today I’m angry.

Today I just want my kid to be happy, to be the goalie, to have no limitations put on him because of his stupid fucking diabetes.

The future will bring more challenges, of this I am sure. This disease has taught me to take life one day at a time and acknowledge the stupid fucking parts of it but also the upside.

There’s always an upside.

The way the sparkle came back to his face after his first dose of insulin, the amazing support we’ve received from family, friends and even strangers, the joy he gets from tucking into a cup of sugar free Jell-O.

Even with that said, sometimes if just really fucking sucks.

Today it sucks.

Today I just want my kid to be the goalie.

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you tomorrow,

NFred.

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